


Lessons Learned

by falsteloj



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 22:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10649547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsteloj/pseuds/falsteloj
Summary: Cecily knows that she is so very lucky to be given the gift of her stepmother's experience.





	Lessons Learned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tristesses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tristesses/gifts).



> Smut Swap 2017 treat for tristesses - Queen/Princess, training for the wedding night. :)

Cecily knows that she’s so very lucky. Knows that most well born maidens her age are entirely ignorant of the realities of the wedding chamber.

It is only that it frustrates her so, makes it difficult to concentrate on her lessons, because now she has been given a taste of what awaits her, she finds herself desperate for more.

Alexandra says she must learn restraint. Lets her lay her head upon her lap and strokes at her hair, her softly accented voice reciting cautionary tales of girls who grew too eager, too wanton, and were ruined before their husbands ever touched them.

The words only serve to excite her further. They bring a flush to her cheeks and make her most intimate parts throb and tingle, until she can imagine how slick she must be. How swollen and how wet, and when Alexandra’s fingers slip between them to brush against her nipples she can’t help but gasp and shiver.

“Imagine if your father could see you now,” Alexandra murmurs, and Cecily closes her eyes in shame. Pushes forward into her stepmother’s touch, despite it all, and Alexandra manoeuvres them both until she can whisper into her ear, her breath hot and damp as she says, “He was such a kind man. So considerate. Do you think he would allow me to teach his only daughter how a husband might bring her pleasure?”

Cecily honestly doesn’t know. In that moment isn’t quite certain she cares, and so she nods helplessly. Pleads with her eyes and trembles with relief when Alexandra stands, movements refined and elegant, and holds one pale hand out to her.

Leads her to the bed she had once shared with Cecily’s father, and encourages her to lie back against the snowy white bedlinen. It contrasts so prettily with the deep scarlet of her dress, and Alexandra takes a moment to simply appreciate it.

The scrutiny makes Cecily blush, suddenly self-conscious. Her stepmother is a great beauty, her features the subject of a thousand paintings, and she is not yet a woman, her days still tied to her studies and the schoolroom.

“Don’t be shy,” Alexandra tells her, understanding without her needing to say a thing. “It pleases me greatly to look at you.”

It’s a struggle to stay still now, and Cecily wills herself not to think of putting a hand to herself the way she does alone in her own bedchamber. To trail her fingertips across the fabric of her drawers, working closer and closer to where she most needs them, dipping them tentatively into her own wetness.

The last time they were together like this Alexandra did it for her. Stroked her fingertip along the sensitive lips of her quim, first one then the other, and warned her that she must never give into the urge to push her fingers deep inside herself, no matter how desperately she ached for them.

She does ache for them, longs to know what it will feel like, and Alexandra soothes her with a hand at her brow. Kisses her chastely and then with passion, the slick slide of her tongue against Cecily’s own enough to have her squirming, restless, tipping her head back and baring the column of her throat to her stepmother’s touch.

The careful brush of her lips becomes the heated swipe of her tongue, and when she combines the two, sucks gently at the pale flesh, Cecily moans, frantic for more.

Alexandra has to be firm with her. Has to make her wait, to learn to accept what she is given, and instead of her eager quim she unbuttons her bodice and puts her mouth to her straining nipples, suckling at one while her fingers torment the other.

“Oh,” Cecily whimpers, overwhelmed by the sensation, and she wishes that it will never end. That she might go about her daily chores with her nipples being teased and tortured.

Again, Alexandra can read her like a book, and pulls a short double pronged hairpin from her coiffure. Secures it over the painful peak of her nipple and pinches the ends tightly together, causing Cecily to cry out in a mixture of pleasure and agony.

It feels so good, feels so incredible, and Alexandra smiles at her indulgently.

“You could wear these perhaps, beneath your clothes, and nobody but you and I would know. Would you like that, Cecily?”

“Please,” she begs, and she’s not sure if it’s for now or for the future. For more or for some respite. “ _Please_ ,” she tries again and Alexandra squeezes the pin together again and again, rhythmic stabs of want striking through her.

Alexandra puts her mouth back to her then, sucking at the tightened bud, and it’s almost too much, almost more than she can take, and then the pin is gone and Alexandra is lifting up her skirts and petticoats in a rustle of silk. Pulling down her drawers and from the moment she breathes over her quivering flesh, the moment Cecily understands what is to come, she is lost to it.

Cries out when Alexandra laps delicately at her folds, and sobs, frantic, when she spears her tongue inside. Thrusts it into her, over and over, and Cecily writhes without any thought for modesty or decorum. She wants so badly, needs so desperately, and when Alexandra introduces the very tip of her finger, working it in slow circles, her peak is upon her, leaving her limp and breathless.

Alexandra doesn’t stop. Follows as Cecily tries to jerk away, even the lightest touch too sensitive, and holds her hips still as she ministers to her again. Keeps at it, on and on, until Cecily’s cheeks are wet with tears and her juices are trickling down her thighs. Until her cries are a constant plea, begging Alexandra to show mercy.

She loses track of how many times she is forced to reach completion. How many times her body clenches, her every muscle trembling with the strain of it. Because every time she is certain it must end, that she cannot possibly endure any more of the exquisite torture, Alexandra proves her wrong, shifting just slightly, alternating the speed of her movements, and she is arching up from the bed again, gushing and pulsing against her stepmother’s tongue.

It is late when Alexandra finally moves her mouth away. When she pushes her fingers through the evidence of her enjoyment, causing Cecily to whimper pitifully.

“I know it was difficult,” she says, so calm and so soothing, “But you must learn that it is not your decision, how and when your body is to bring you pleasure.”

“How shall I endure it?” Cecily asks, tears clinging to her lashes, and Alexandra only smiles at her benignly and strokes her sweat slick hair back from her brow,

“We will practice every day, my darling, until you are ready.”

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, feel free to chat / hit me with prompts over on Tumblr [@serenwib](http://serenwib.tumblr.com/) or Twitter [@falsteloj](https://twitter.com/falsteloj). :)


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